Or as that obsequious character, Uriah Heep, in Dickens' book David Copperfield would say " I'm umble, I am."
I don't feel too insecure right now, but that feeling is not based on anything external. I'm not writing much these days - not since the Tibetan New Year on February 16th. I have 97 thousand words on the memoir and I'm letting it steep. Or cool off, or whatever fat sketchy manuscripts are supposed to do.
The closest thing to a writerly project I have on the go is that I'm designing a chapbook of my poetry. I'm doing it as an assignment I've given myself on the Sketchbook Skool Kourse I'm taking called Illustration Nation. It is the 14th SBS kourse I've signed up for. I entered a chapbook contest this month and then decided I'd publish it myself if I can't find someone to publish me. Self-publishing a chapbook is a perfectly old and honoured tradition and being able to design all the elements from the cover to the end papers, illustrations, typography and dingbats seems deeply fun to me right now.
The other reason I'm writing less is two-time. I've had a persistent dry cough for going on three weeks and I'm substituting at the Innu school on the reserve near here. It is wildly fun BUT exhausting. Next week I'll be the gym teacher all week. May I tell those of you who don't know me - I'm not the phys ed type, but I did it three days last week and had a ball. At the end of the day all I can manage is to moan on the couch.
So writing? Not so much.
As to this month's question "How do you celebrate a writing achievement?" Hmmm...If I were at home in Nova Scotia I'd go out with the fella to a great place to eat. Here? Uh...leap about shouting huzzah? I did feel good that I had poetry published in the Newfoundland Quarterly in December, but I guess I'm old enough or finally smart enough to not make too big of a deal over success or failure. The satisfaction seems to be in the work alone, and that's got to be enough.
Can't wait to see what you all get up to!